His Second Wife

Chapter 76

~Camila’s POV~

“How many times have you practiced that position, princess?” I went completely still. He was nothing like the Chris I knew. Perhaps telling him I was aware of his secret was a mistake. I am starting to think twice now. But then, ever since that day, I have always wanted him to do to me the things I read in that sinful book. Call me crazy, but I wanted it. I looked at him and honestly answered him.

“I lost count, Daddy.” I kept my gaze fixed on the ground. I’m afraid to look at him, but I can tell he’s giving me a sinister sneer.

“Safe word?” What is my safe word? I’ve been looking into these things, but I’ve never come up with a safe word. I even went so far as to double-check the BDSM side at the swingers’ club to ensure that I didn’t make any mistakes. So I said the first thing that came to mind.

“Stopper.” I wanted to laugh, but I knew if I did, he would punish me. I saw them using floggers, straps, and whips, but Chris had more.

“When you enter that dungeon, I want your hair braided or tied into a ponytail. You have five minutes to get your dirty little ass to the dungeon.” He said that and then walked away. I dashed to my usual guest room, cursing the fact that I had no clothes in this house. I took everything that belonged to me and my son and the day we left the house. This content provided by N(o)velDrama].[Org.

Shit!

I quickly stripped down naked. How the fuck am I supposed to return to that room naked while we have workers all over? I put on a towel and rushed into his room, or should I say our room. There was absolutely no sign of him anywhere. I entered the dungeon after punching the code in the walk-in closet. I knelt on the right side of the door, my hair in a ponytail, my gaze fixed on the floor. I think this is

perfect. I heard a footstep, and the door creaked open, revealing my tormentor wearing black jeans with nothing on top. He took a step in front of me and pressed his barefoot between my knees.

“Wider,” he commanded, nudging them apart.

“Yes, Daddy,” I whispered with a shiver running down my spine. While I heard some implements being moved around, I kept my gaze fixed on the floor. It was more like he was deciding my fate. I kept my position as he moved about, staring at my now exposed pussy with a whip in his hand, tapping the handle of the whip in his big hands. Then he spoke, his voice sending shivers up and down my spine.

“In here, do not speak unless asked a question, and you will never ask for anything in here. You will not cum unless I give you permission, and if I do not allow you to cum, you are not permitted to finger yourself. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl.” He praised.

He seized me by the hair and hauled me to my feet with his strong grip. I screamed, then bit my lips to stop myself because I wasn’t sure if I’d be punished for screaming.

“Oh, Princess.” I’d like to hear you scream. Scream loudly at the top of your lungs. As he tightened his grip on my hair, he hissed. I exclaimed as he dragged me to a fuck bench and tightly strapped my face down before leaning down on my ear.

“What would you like first: strap whip, floggers, canes?” I thought of the show I watched at the Swingers Club; I wanted something lighter.

“I would like a strap, Daddy.” I finally decided.

“Cane it is.” I didn’t use the word cane.

“No, Chris, I said strap.” I could make out the sound of him hissing through his teeth as he took a breath.

“What did you just call me?” I clung on to the fuck bench for my dear life as a shudder ran through me, and I gasped when realization dawned on me.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.”

He grabbed a handful of my hair and turned my head in a particular direction while doing so. There I saw a cross. He yanked me harder till my ear was close to his breath and he breathed into my ear, making me shudder even more. “You see that cross?”

“Yes, Daddy?”

“I’m going to hang you there and bind you like Jesus Christ.” I whimpered, “That cross is used for punishment, nothing else. And you, Princess, have just disobeyed me twice.”

“Twice?”

He glared at me with a hostile expression and growled, “Five times.” I gulped and returned my attention to the floor, where it belonged. Once I was facing the floor, he continued, “Now, what did you just call me?”

“I addressed you as Chris, Daddy.”

“Is that acceptable in this dungeon?” I quickly responded so as not to aggravate the situation.

“No, Daddy.”

“No, it is not.”

He freed me from the restraints on the fuck bench, dragged me to the cross, and then tied me up very securely. He stared at me with no expression whatsoever. He grabbed my chin and forced me to look up. “Tell me why you’re tied to a cross like Jesus.”

“I called you by your name and looked at you without being commanded. I didn’t answer your question and asked you a question.”

“Good girl,” he praised, before viciously twisting my nipple and making me cry.

“And?”

“I’m not sure, Daddy.” I groaned as he twisted both my nipples at the same time, harder this time.

“You spoke without being asked a question.” He walked around me, picking up a strap. Without a warning, the thin leather strap landed on my ass with a loud flop!

“Ah! One!” I cried out.

“Do you remember your safe word?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He stepped behind and slashed the strap across my ass again, almost right on top of the first one. I exclaimed, and tears welled up on my cheeks.

“Ah! Two!” He rubbed the area he had just struck and then spanked my ass right in the same spot. I cried out.

“Three!” I sobbed once more.

“Nope, princess, we are still on two.”